


Guilt Beneath the Gold

by Cerch



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drunk Merlin, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Minor Character Death(s), Protective Arthur, Protective Knights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:57:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerch/pseuds/Cerch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine alerts Arthur to the fact that Merlin is not coping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guilt Beneath the Gold

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should warn for a drunken dialogue, which has been written in a truly inconsistent manner. Also I'm afraid that Drunk!Merlin is unintentionally cracky. Not betaed, or brit-picked or anything. I mean I did try to find my own mistakes but you know how well that usually works...

Of course Arthur knew that everything wasn’t alright with Merlin. Hunith had died less than a month ago and Arthur would have been more worried if he had appeared to be completely fine. He was quiet and pale and stuck close to Arthur during the day, but Arthur had managed to wrench a couple of faint smiles out of him, so really, he didn’t think he had reason for alarm.  
Until Gwaine marched into his room one evening, hours after he had sent Merlin back to Gaius.

“What do you plan to do about Merlin?”

Arthur stared at him for a moment, racking his thoughts for a reason he would need to do something about Merlin, as Gwaine had put it, but couldn’t come up with anything.

“What do you mean?”

“Princess.” Gwaine spoke slowly, articulating like he was addressing a halfwit. “You need to drag Merlin out of his misery. He has drunk himself to oblivion every night since he returned and nothing we say gets through to him. As much as it pains me to admit it, you are probably the only person who can make him listen right now.”

Arthur turned his face abruptly away to hide his jumbling emotions. There was the normal annoyance at Gwaine – but now it was overridden by helplessness. Merlin, the idiot, had just been putting a brave front for him, and he – what was the word Merlin used – clotpole, had accepted it happily. It hurt to know that Merlin didn’t trust him enough to show that something was wrong and had chosen to drown his sorrows instead. He frowned.

“Wait – you said every night. Where is he now?”

“Tavern.”

Of course. Arthur strode to the door and motioned Gwaine to follow.

“I really don’t think you can do much for him right now, princess. We were thinking more along the lines of you giving him a talk in the morning.” A tiny hint of amusement had crept into Gwaine’s serious and worried voice.

“Shut up, Gwaine,” Arthur snapped. He didn’t particularly like being laughed at and the worry for Merlin was gnawing at his insides. He knew Gwaine and Merlin were close. If Gwaine hadn’t managed to help Merlin what did they think he could do?

xxxx

Arthur was surprised to find all of his knights hiding in a dark corner of the tavern and not so discreetly peering at Merlin who was sitting alone. They, however, did not seem surprised to see him despite Gwaine’s assurances that they didn’t expect him to do anything right now.

Watching Merlin, swaying in his chair, reaching and failing to find a grip of his tankard, Arthur was inclined to agree that Merlin would remember nothing of this in the morning. It didn’t stop him from giving his knights an exasperated look, because really, and walking to Merlin cautiously.

“I think you have had enough now, Merlin. If you don’t go to bed now you never be up for your duties tomorrow.”

Merlin lifted his eyes from his drink and smiled lopsidedly when he recognised Arthur.

“Ooh, it’s prinshe Arfur.” He leaned to Arthur conspiratorially. “He’sh important.”

“That’s right. And because I’m an important person you need to do as I say and leave your drink.”

Merlin shook his head vehemently. “Noo, no. He’sh important ‘cause otherwise it’d be all in vain. All dead, my friendsh, for him, he can’t die or theyf all died and I killed for nooooo thing.” Arthur’s yaw dropped open and he cast a quick glance around in case anyone was within the hearing distance. There seemed to be several people watching them curiously, his knights included, so he simply dragged Merlin, who proceeded to protest vehemently, out of the tavern.

“Merlin, who have you killed?” he asked carefully from Merlin, who was pouting at him, once they were safely alone. Merlin rolled his eyes like he was an idiot from even asking.

“Lotsha people tried to kill Arfur so I killed them firsth, can’t let them gef to ‘im. Nimueh, yesh, many, many banditsh.” Merlin nodded sagely and almost fell over. Arthur rushed to steady him and steered him to the direction of the castle. They had a long walk ahead of them. He was starting to suspect that Merlin was hallucinating, making things up or talking about a dream. There was no way Merlin could have killed anyone. But Merlin didn’t seem to be finished.

“I canth tell Arfur, he thinksh am stupid. But I tell ‘im when he’sh a king. He’ll fixsh everything. Hash to. I thinks I hate him ‘f not.” Merlin’s eyes widened he slapped his hands to his face with a horrified gasp. “Nooo, I luuuve Arfur, he’sh gonna be the greatesth king! But whatf theyr all wrong and he wonth fix it. Then I’ll reeesent ‘im even if I don’th wantho ‘cause theyf all dieth for him, but my fault.” He looked at Arthur pleadingly and seemed to be in the verge of tears. “You understanth?”

Arthur just nodded mutely. His mind was reeling. He had no idea what Merlin was going on about, but even though he was trying to convince himself they were nothing but drunken ramblings, something cold was spreading in his veins.  
His nonverbal response seemed to be good enough for Merlin, who kept going:

“Half can’th hate whath makes it whole, supith dragon. ‘f it all goefs to hell then I die aaanyway so canth hate him long, nooooo. Wonth happen though. Arfur’s noble and very pretthy and good man, he’ll do whatsh right. Moother thoughts so ‘s well.” He stopped, once again looking devastated. “Mother died. I hath to safe Arfur and couldn’t safe her, no, no. Am bad, bad son, all my faulth.”

It went on and on, and Arthur had to actively fight back nausea. Merlin talked about Lancelot, Morgana, Mordred and someone named Freya, but besides the names he couldn’t make much out of it. He found he was far more relieved about that than he had any right to be.

After what felt like a lifetime, they finally reached the stairs from Gaius’ chambers to Merlin’s room. Merlin had quieted down a while ago but he kept clutching to Arthur’s arm like his life depended on it. Arthur didn’t really mind, he was just glad that they had managed to get through the room without waking Gaius. Somehow he managed to get Merlin up the stairs and to his bed to where he slumped immediately like a bag of bones. He made sure that Merlin was lying on his side, rather than face down and started planning.

xxxx

He had everything ready by the time Merlin stumbled into his room looking like a ghost. He didn’t seem to register that Arthur was up and walked to the window to open the curtains. When he noticed that they were already open he stopped and frowned at them in confusion. Arthur bit back a laugh.

“Good morning, Merlin.”

“Arthur!” Merlin squawked, whipping around to face him. “Why are you awake?”

“Because otherwise we would not get to leave early enough, obviously,” he answered, smirking.

“Leave?”

“Yes, do try to keep up, Merlin. Now, if you think you can stomach something after last night, help yourself.” He gestured to the food on the table. “I have already eaten.”

“Thank you, sire. I had Gaius’ hangover remedy so I feel fine.” He reached for a sausage, but paused in mid movement, the last remnants of colour fleeing from his face. “Wait – last night?”

So Merlin didn’t remember. No surprises there.

“Yes, Merlin. Last night. When you were drinking yourself away to oblivion, after pretending to be fine for the whole day.” He didn’t really mean to sound angry, but some of his feelings must have gotten to his voice because Merlin gave an almost unnoticeable wince.

“It hasn’t affected my duties so you have no reason to complain, sire,” he said sullenly.

Arthur barely restrained from throwing his left boot at Merlin. Instead he forced himself to calm down and speak slowly in a neutral tone.

“You know this isn’t about that.” He swallowed. He hated feelings. “I care. And I know you are not alright.”

First Merlin looked stunned, then contemplating and finally he just gave Arthur a look that said ‘go on’. So Arthur struggled to find more words.

“I wanted you to know that. So I thought we could visit your mother’s grave. She was a good woman and I haven’t yet paid my respects.” He waited cautiously for Merlin’s reaction. He wasn’t really all that confident about this part of his plan. He didn’t want to make Merlin feel like he was intruding, but even though he hadn’t understood much about what Merlin had slurred during the night he felt that he had needed Arthur to acknowledge him and his losses. That was what he was offering.

After a moment of tense silence Merlin took a step towards Arthur. Then he turned and marched to Arthur’s wardrobe. Arthur felt his heart sink, but then Merlin took out his travelling cloak and brought it to Arthur. Silently he lowered it to Arthur’s shoulders and left his hands to rest on Arthur’s shoulders.

Arthur felt how Merlin leaned in closer, so that their bodies were almost touching. He could feel Merlin’s breath tickling the back of his neck.

“Thank you,” Merlin whispered and Arthur felt the coldness of the night to burn away.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments (concrit as well!) are greatly appreciated <3


End file.
